


ReSQUIPed

by beyondAgitated



Category: Be More Chill - Ned Vizinni
Genre: Alternate Universe - Michael Has a Squip, Car Accidents, F/F, M/M, Memory Loss, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-24
Updated: 2019-03-03
Packaged: 2019-10-15 10:36:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,158
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17527184
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/beyondAgitated/pseuds/beyondAgitated
Summary: Three weeks after Jeremy gets rid of his SQUIP, his best friend Michael gets in an accident and loses almost all his memories involving Jeremy. All he remembers is the Halloween party, but he thinks he fought with Rich, not Jeremy.Rich decides to go with it, and somehow accidentally gets Michael a SQUIP. Right as Michael is starting to get a crush on the mysterious Jeremy Heere. Who is dating one of the school’s hottest girls, Christine.





	1. Chapter One

Voices. I hear voices. Worried, quiet. I struggle to awareness, wanting to quell the curiosity that's arisen with the knowledge there's other people in here with me. I try to speak, to ask where I am, but my own voice seems trapped, lost beneath the fog in my brain. The other voices come into focus.

“Michael?” The voice is familiar, yet unrecognizable. “Michael, are you waking up?” It also sounds distraught, like they've been waiting for years for me to wake up. “Please wake up….” This time I recognize it as a male voice. Maybe older teen?

I try to speak again, and a choked, broken whisper exits my lips. “Where am I….?” A hand grabs mine, this time feminine. “Mom…?”

I hear a choked sob, and I know it's her. I force my eyes open, the light burning my eyes. I squeeze them shut again for a moment, then slowly crack them open again. I look to my left, seeing my mom, smiling like she just won the lottery. My dad stands behind her, smiling almost as wide. Both are crying. I turn to my right to look at….. Wait, who is this?

He's smiling happily down at me. “Hey, Michael! Are you feeling okay?” He must sense my confusion, because his smile falls to a frown. “Michael?”

I glance at Mom. “Who is this?” I ask, my throat clenching up at the dryness. Suddenly everyone is frowning. The kid on my right let's go of my arm and takes a small step back.

“Come on, man. You don't mean that…. Right?”

I shake my head. “I don't know you.”

I see the hurt flash across his face, and his eyes immediately tear up. For some reason, I feel like I need to comfort him, but I don't know what to do about it. My mom grabs my hand again. “Do you really not remember your best friend?”

“Best friend?” I question. “That’s not Rich.”

She bites her lip, her mood changing from relief to pain. A nurse steps in and convinces everyone to leave, giving me some water. It's cold, but it scalds my throat, making me groan. “What's wrong with me?” I ask.

She frowns. “Because of the accident, you've sustained possibly permanent vocal damage.”

My vision blurs. “I'm sorry, did you say accident? And very damage?”

She nodded. “We did all we could, but it also seems that you have memory loss. We're going to keep you here for a few days so we can figure out exactly how much, okay?”

She leaves before I can say anything else. My vision starts going dark, and I search deep into my mind, trying to remember what happened. I remember bright lights…. Shouting…. But that's it. It hurts that I can't remember anything but that.

I allow myself to drift off to sleep.

—————

Six days later.

I take the first step into the school. It's loud. Too loud. I slide my headphones over my ears, turning on a good song. I start to sing along before the lump in my throat stops me. I frown and turn my music off. This had happened several times in the past week, and it’s killing me from the inside.

My parents had filled me in on what happened the night of the accident. I had gone with a friend to Pinkberry, and they were driving. We'd hit a patch of ice and slid into a four car pile up. The seatbelt had wrapped itself around my neck and right arm due to all the twisting around, and another car slid into us, bending the door and trapping my other arm so I couldn't get free. Not to mention the street light fell right that second, crashing through the roof of the vehicle and hitting me hard enough to knock me out. My right arm was broken and is now in a cast as well.

I had nearly suffocated by the time they got me out.

I walk towards my locker, avoiding eye contact with anyone at all. I hear whispers and mutters and other things involving me, but I try to ignore it all. I jump when someone next to me slams their locker. I look over to see who it is, and I see the kid that was in my hospital room when I woke up. At least, I think that happened. That day is a little fuzzy. I took in his appearance, short, curly hair, a blue jacket covering a white t-shirt. I don't know his name, but I wanna know.

I hold out my hand. “I'm Michael Mells,” I say, wincing at the crack in my voice.

He stares at my hand for a moment, and I feel like he's going to ignore me and walk away, but he surprises me by taking my hand and giving it a small shake. “Jeremy Heere,” he responds. “How are you feeling?”

Okay, so it was real. I shrug. “I might never have a normal voice again….”

He frowns. “I'm so sorry, Michael…..”

I gave him a small smile. “It's not your fault. Wanna eat lunch with me?”

He looks like he was going to say something, but he shrugs and nods. “Sure. I'll see you at lunch, our usual…. I mean. The table by the tree window?”

I nod. “Sure. Later.” I turn and walk down the hall to my class.

——————

I sit down at the table Jeremy suggested, tapping my fingers to the beat of the song playing from my headphones. I look around, taking a bite out of the sandwich Mom had made for me. Where is he? 

I'm about halfway done with my food by the time I see him, and there's a girl at his side. I think I remember her being Christine? Canigula, I think. They both make their way over here, sitting down with their school lunches. Christine gives me a semi-friendly smile. “Michael, right?”

I nod, turning off my music and putting the headphones around my neck. “Christine?”

She nods, giving me a weird look. “What's wrong with your voice?”

Jeremy's eyes widen, and he leans over and whispers in her ear. I hear every word. “Don't ask him that, he doesn't like it.”

I take a loud slurp of my drink, suddenly wondering how he seems to know how I feel before I even know it. They both look over, and Christine has the decency to look a little sorry. “So he really doesn't remember you?” she whispers. He shakes his head, looking sadder than he should. It's not a good look on him.

I suddenly feel like I'm intruding. I pick up my lunch remains, tossing them into the wastebasket next to our table, and stand up. “I have homework to do,” I lie, moving quickly towards the exit.

I hear Jeremy call after me, but I don't answer, instead going to the bathroom. I find a mirror and look at myself. I can see a few very freshly healed scars; the biggest starts at my neck, which is just barely hidden by my red hoodie. It stretches all the way down to my thigh, from when the door had caved in. I scoff. That scar is probably the only one that will stay for half my life at least. It angers me. I turn the water on, all the way to cold, and splash some in my face, hoping to wake myself up. Hoping this is all just a terrible dream.

When I look back in the mirror, the only difference is my face and the front of my hoodie ate now wet. I sigh, grabbing my bag from where I'd discarded it. I head to my next class.

———————

I happen to catch Rich right before he leaves. “Hey, can I have a ride home?”

He looks at me like I'm crazy, but nods. “Sure, get in.”

I get in his fancy car, ignoring the burns on his head. “Thanks, man. It's good to have a vest friend like you.”

He tosses a glance at me. “Best friend, eh?”

I nod. “Yeah, you. Did I ever say I was sorry at Halloween?”

“For what?”

“For chewing you out over choosing me chick over me.”

He gazes at me for a second before it dawns on him. “Oh! Okay, I know what you mean now. I'm sorry for choosing a chick over you, how about that?”

I smile. He takes me home, and I pause before either grab the handle. “Thanks for not pointing out my voice.”

“Thanks for not pointing out my burns,” he returns. “Go on, I've got some things to do before I go home.”

I nod and exit the car, heading inside. My mom greets me as I step through the door, asking how day went.

I simply tell her it was fine, then go to my room, pulling out my phone. I had to get it replaced; the crash had destroyed it. I turn on some music and pull out my homework.

About four songs into it, I get a text. I look at it; unknown. I read it anyway, curious.

Unknown: Hey, you free tonight?

I frown and text back.

Michael: Depends? Who is this?  
Unknown: It's Jeremy?  
Michael: How'd you get my number?  
Jeremy: Dude, I've had your number since you got a phone.  
Michael: Stalker alert?  
Jeremy: Right, sorry….. I forgot that you forgot me….  
Michael: Anyways…. What did you have in mind?  
Jeremy: I wanted to know if you wanted to go to Pinkberry  
Michael: Sure, what time?  
Jeremy: Five?

I look at my clock. I can walk there if I left in ten minutes.

Michael: I'll see you there.

I put my stuff away and grab my shoes. I tell my mom where I'm going, and she gives the usual “be safe” before letting me go.

Hopefully this isn't a mistake.


	2. Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which our buddy Michael gets confused but has fun while doing it, and then *dun dun dun noises* he gets a SQUIP.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am sorry for the late update (really late?), but I hope to make it up to you guys as soon as I get ungrounded again!

I step into the building and find a table to wait for Jeremy. I'm here a little early. One or two people cycle in, get their stuff, and leave, so I'm the only one who stays for longer than about ten minutes. I turn on some music, halfway humming along to it while I play a game on my phone.

Something gets set down in front of me, and I look up. Jeremy has a nervous smile plastered on his face, but it's a smile nonetheless. I look down at the thing he set in front of me: a double chocolate chip cookie on top of a Rocky Road froyo with rainbow sprinkles. I grin and pull it towards me. “Thanks, man. How'd you know what I like?”

There's a dark edge to his eyes, but he shrugs. “Lucky guess.”

I look at what he got. “Dude, you're boring. Strawberry? With chocolate sprinkles?”

He smiles. “I like boring. It's a nice change of pace from two months ago.”

“What happened two months ago?” I ask.

He shrugs again. “Nothing….”

I raise an eyebrow, but he still doesn't elaborate, so I grab my spoon and take a big bite. The froyo melts in my mouth, and I hum appreciatively as I take another bite. “So why'd you wanna hang out?”

His voice has a hidden emotion I can't pinpoint as he replies, “I want to get to know you. Be friends. You know.”

I gaze at him, eating my froyo. “That makes sense, I guess,” I say finally. I set my spoon down. “How about we ask questions about each other? Try to find out more about each other and maybe ourselves.”

He smiled. It's a pretty nice smile. Woah, what? I shove that thought away. What the hell, brain? I snap back yo attention as he speaks.

“Okay. You start.”

I take another bite, swallowing before asking him, “Have you always lived here?”

He nodded. “I've hardly even been out of the state for family road trips. What's your favorite color?”

“Red. Yours?”

“Blue.” I smile. This is fun.

We bounce questions back and forth for almost an hour before he said he had to go. He offers to give me a ride, and I decide to take it. We get caught up with talking again, and before I know it, he's pulling up in front of my house. I thank him, and for a split second almost hug him, but I brush the idea away and go inside.

It's only when I'm almost asleep a few hours later when I realize I never gave him directions to my house.

——————

The next morning comes too early, and I throw my clock at my wall. It hardly gets off the nightstand, and I groan and get up, shutting it off and getting dressed. My favorite jacket is dirty, so I'm reduced to my red hoodie. Okay, it's more like a lighter maroon color. But it's a shade of red.

My throat hurts from all the talking I did last night.

I bound down the stairs, grabbing a bagel and popping it into the toaster. My mom is starting coffee, and I swear the smell is gonna enter my bagel as it wafts towards it. I work fast, slathering strawberry cream cheese over it and taking a huge bite, darting to the other side of the kitchen.

I may like coffee, but not coffee flavored bagels.

I quickly consume it, then grab a glass of milk, downing that as well. I grab my shoes and slip them on, grabbing my backpack. I tell my parents goodbye and leave, choosing to walk instead of getting a ride today. While I walk, I think.

How did Jeremy know where I live? I don't remember telling him in our question game last night. The thought crosses my mind that he might be a stalker. But he doesn't seem like the type. Does he? I don't know what a stalker acts like.

I'm rambling. I gotta stop. I pause and take a deep breath, feeling better already. I get lost in my music, not letting myself think about the potential stalker I may or may not have. I almost walk right by the school, and a honk snaps me out of my stupor. I jump and spin to see it's Rich, and I smile and bound over. “Hey, man.”

He gestures to me. “Step inside my car for a moment.” Confused, I do as told. He turns to face me. “How've you been?”

I shrug. “I hung out with someone I think might be a stalker last night,” I confess. He raises an eyebrow.

“Who?”

“Jeremy. I think his last name is Heere?”

He frowns. “I don't think he's the stalking type, but I can spy on him if you want.”

I smirk. “It's probably nothing, but you can if you want.”

He nods. “I'll spy on him for you and make sure he's not stalking my bro, okay?”

I smile. “Alright, dude. Thanks.” He nods again, then makes shooing motions with his hands

“Come on, get out. We're gonna be late.” I hop out and follow him into class.

—————

I'm in the bathroom right before lunch when another kid walks in, talking to himself. He looks like shit. I try to ignore him, but he makes a shocked gasp and exclaimes, “I can't do that! What are you, stupid? I can't believe I wasted my money on this!”

I spin in surprise, but he doesn't notice me. He continues ranting. “No, fuck that shit. I'm gonna get rid of you if you don't shut up right now!”

I clear my throat, wincing as it sends sparks of pain through it. “Excuse me? What are you talking to?”

The kid jumps in shock, hitting his head on the wall. He flinches and rubs the back of his head. “My SQUIP,” he says.

I give him a confused look. “What the hell is a SQUIP?”

He rolls his eyes. “It's this little computer that you swallow. It tells you what to do to get what you want, but I am ninety nine percent sure mine is defective. Stupid thing hasn't gotten me what I want.”

I raise an eyebrow. “A computer you swallow? Sounds made up. Like a conspiracy. I like it!”

The kid rolls his eyes again. “Sure, if you're into that shit. I'd gladly give you mine, but I can't. I was just about to get rid of it.”

I open my mouth to speak again, but my voice catches and I have to reset it mentally before I can speak. My voice is hoarse again. “How do you get one?”

He looks at me like I’m mental, but he tells me I need to talk to Rich. I thank him and head off to find my friend. I find him outside, smoking with some girls that are a little familiar to me. He offers me what he's smoking, but I decline and ask about the SQUIP. He gets really quiet, the smile I'd seen just a second ago now gone. I frown as he speaks.

“That's not something you just go around talking about…..” he says quietly.

“What is it then?”

He sighs, snuffing his cigarette. “Meet me in the auditorium after school and I'll tell you,” he says. I nod.

“Thanks, man!” I bound off to class with a smile in place again.

———————

I meet Rich in the auditorium, tapping along to the beat of the music from my headphones. He waves as he approaches, and I smile and wave back. He hands me a Mountain Dew (gross), and I give him an odd look. “What's this for?”

“Have some patience, will ya?” He digs in his pocket and pulls out a small baggy. Inside in a really small pill. Grey, ovaline. “You cannot tell anyone about this, alright?” He looks around, almost nervously. I nod.

“I promise no telling. What is it?” I hold out my hand, and he hands me the baggy.

“You wanted to know what a SQUIP was,” he says with a shrug. “That right there is a SQUIP.”

I stare at it. “So this little thing can get me whatever I want?”

He nods, his gaze solemn. “You just have to listen to what it tells you.”

I frown. “How does it do-”

“Just take the stupid thing,” he says, exasperated.

I take it out of the bag and set it on my tongue, taking a swig of the Mountain Dew. It goes down harshly, and I winch as it catches in my throat and for a second, I can't breathe. Then it's down, and I wait for whatever is about to happen.

A sharp pain in my head sends me to my knees, and I grab my head, winching in pain. “What the fuck?!”

Rich pats my back. “It's processing,” he says. I groan, but then a voice inside my head stops me.

“Michael Mell. Welcome to your super quantum unit Intel processor. Your SQUIP.”


End file.
